​Sometimes.

In some very specific cases, too much information is bad. With so much Information available on the internet there is almost no secrets or surprises. Especially when it comes to entertainment.

In my experience, the less I know about an IP the better. I like the mystery. I don't need to know everything. Most of life's mysteries go unanswered. I'm good with that. Live in the moment.

Children of Men is an amazing movie. The starting premises is that women stopped getting pregnant and the human race is dying out. There have not been any babies born for a couple of decades. But why? We don't know. It's never explained. Doesn't seem to affect animals, only people. But it doesn't matter. The beauty of the story is not in the past but what is happening in the present. The moment.

Less information keeps expectations in check. Expectations get me in trouble every time. For example: The Star Wars Sequel Trilogy. I don’t think I’m the only one, but when The Force Awakens came out, the bar was set pretty low. And then I got to be pleasantly surprised when it actually was a decent movie. Expectations had been high for the Prequels and those were dashed long before credit rolled for Phantom Menace. (I wonder if Force Awakens would have done worse, had it not had the prequels before it.) High expectations certainly are more of an issue with sequels. I’m afraid to hope when it comes to the next Indiana Jones movie.

Two times I knew nothing about a movie going in were with the original Stargate movie and the first Matrix movie. I had not seen trailers for either of them. I think I knew who the leads were and they were scifi and that is about it. I walked out of the theater stunned. I had no expectations because I didn’t know anything about the films.

I’ve started watching Paper Girls and the only thing I know about that IP is that it’s source material is a comic. That’s it. I definitely did not expect the title to be so literal. But that’s fine. After only a few episodes in, I have no idea where the story is going. I was surprised by the time travel element. It’s a very understated title, Paper Girls, and maybe that’s the point. So far I’m enjoying it. Just like with my own writing, I like the discovery process of other people’s work too.
 
A lot of movies and shows at the moment give out too much information. One of my favorite parts of A New Hope is that we are dropped into the middle of this raid on ship. It is very obvious that George Lucas had an idea of what was happening just before the opening of the movie but we aren’t given that info until years later. I love Rogue One but I always liked that we weren’t force fed every tiny detail. There was something so intriguing about be dropped into a fully formed universe and figuring things out along the way as the story unfolded.
 
Leaving questions unanswered makes room for other people to engage in the story with their own theories and ideas. It becomes a collaborative work. A well thought out canon and developed world is important to have but the reader/watcher doesn’t need absolutely every tiny detail about everything. Leave some stuff to the imagination of the audience. It’s good for them.  

Edra is Lysandra and Edward's ship name. If that sentence is gibberish to you, don't worry about it. 

In August I posted a scene with Lysandra and Edward to show where they are after the events of Linchpin. I gave you their last date, here is there second. I have actually written up all five dates. Here is a summary:
 
1st – Art gallery opening.
2nd – A private dinner on Edward’s yacht (below).
3rd – Private dinner at Edward house, no one else home.
4th – Private box at the opera
5th – Movie night at the house
 
I have another scene where Lysandra gets black out drunk and ends up at Edward’s but I’m not sure where to put it their timeline. It would have to be closer to the start of Iteration, whereas these dates are closer to Linchpin. I may post it eventually. I’ll think about it.

DISCLAIMER-Whenever I post these scenes, they have not been through an editor.

 Lysandra waited at the gate feeling totally exposed. As far as she could tell the harbor was devoid of people. Only the muffled thumps of boats against the dock and an occasional bird call could be heard. She checked behind to make sure no one was walking up on her. Old habits die hard. Heavy footsteps pounded wood planks. A man in a crisp white uniform made his way up the gangplank. 
 
“Miss Carlisle.” He greeted her with the tip of his hat. “My apologies for the wait.” He unlatched the gate and swung it open for her. “I’m Captain Noble.” He held his hand out for her.
 
“Thank you.” Lysandra gladly took it and they inched down the steep grade. “Is uh, Mr. Drake arriving soon?”
 
“He’s already on board. Dinner won’t be long. The chef has been cooking all afternoon.”
 
“Wow.” She looked around as they passed between the lines of boats. Having someone work hard for her all day was meant to be a compliment but it only made her feel bad. “I don’t want to be a bother to anyone.”
 
“Absolutely not. It’s what we’re here for.”
 
A cold breeze blew through the harbor. She zipped up her leather jacket to ward off the chill. It was no surprise to her that dinner was being prepared, she was glad it wasn’t at the house. She did not relish the idea of seeing Nolin and L’heilh just yet. Not until she and Edward figured out what they were. At the very end of the pier, a large ship, the only one with lights on, bobbed gently in the water. She took the captain’s hand again as they ascended the gangplank up to the main deck. After a few turns and one set of stairs, the captain guided her into a spacious room.
 
The room was cozy with soft lighting and lots of plush seating. Faint music filled the space. A bartender behind the bar cleaned glasses, he nodded as they made brief eye contact. Edward stood as she came into the room. He wore a charcoal suit with a mauve button down shirt that brought out the undertones in his skin. His green eyes sparkled as he smiled and bowed slightly. “Miss Carlisle.”
 
Heat flushed in her chest at the sound of his voice. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Drake.” Being on a date, a second date, doing something so mundane and normal was weird. Should they hug? Kiss? Their first date had been so formal and proper, she had no idea what was expected. 
 
“May I take your coat?” Edward approached her. 
 
“Sure.” She unzipped her jacket. He moved behind her and helped slide it from her shoulders. 
 
Lysandra had to shop for this occasion. A few video chats with Kristy resulted in her current outfit, a dark green halter top and simple black skirt. “Classic and classy” as Kristy has put it. Now with the jacket gone she was very aware of her bare arms. 
 
Edward hung her jacket up and returned to her side. “You look beautiful.” He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the cheek.
 
“Thank you. You’re looking handsome, as usual.”
 
“Would you like something to drink before dinner?” He glanced at the bar.
 
“Hmm,” she pivoted and scanned the bottles lining the wall. She was too nervous to think of anything interesting. “I’ll have a whiskey sour.”
 
“Coming up, Miss.” The bartender got to work. 
 
“Would you like to sit?” Edward asked. 
 
Lysandra looked around the room. It was warm in here. Really warm. The room had windows on all sides. She picked a section of couch that faced the water. Edward sat after her, leaving a respectful one foot of distance between them. “How was your day?” He asked as he settled back.
 
Lysandra shrugged. “It’s all very routine. With our new location patrol actually feels meaningful now.”
 
“That’s good isn’t it?” He stretched his right arm across the back of the couch and his left hand rested on his knee.
 
That’s when she saw it. The absence of his recently severed pinky finger stopped her heart. The events of that day flashed in her mind. She had been through some traumatic shit in her life but that… her vision blurred. 
 
“Lysandra.” Edward moved next to her and took her hand. “Why are you crying?”
 
She reached up and felt the wetness on her face. Her eyes immediately went to the missing digit on his hand. Instinctively he moved his hand out of sight. “It’s okay.” He wiped tears from her cheek. “Talk to me.”
 
After a couple of deep breaths she found the words. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fa–”
 
“Stop.” Edward’s voice was a command but soft with compassion. “What happened to me is on Xander and no one else. I will not let you take the blame for his actions.”
 
“But if I–”
 
“There wasn’t a single thing you could have done to change what happened.”
 
She knew that was true. She had rehashed the events of that week several times, trying to find where she could have changed their course. If she hadn’t been there, all of it would have happened to someone else, probably Matt or Kristy. 
 
She nodded, conceding his point. Drying her eyes, she felt the wave of grief pass, and met his gaze. “Does it still hurt?”
 
Edward held up his hand and turned it a couple of times front to back. “Sometimes. Esben helps control the pain. It will get better with time.”
 
Lysandra reached up and took his hand and held it in her lap, caressing his palm. “Still, I’m sorry it happened.”
 
“I’m not.” His right hand resting on the back of the couch grazed her shoulder. 
The bartender cleared his throat and appeared with their drinks. He set them on the glass coffee table in front of them. 
 
“Thank you,” Edward nodded at him. “Please let us know when dinner is ready.”
“Yes, sir.” He bowed and left the room.
 
As soon as the door closed, Lysandra leaned forward, eliminating any space between them, and hugged him. With her face flush against his neck, she locked her arms around him and breathed. 
 
Edward’s arms pulled across her back and held her tightly. She could feel his heart pounding through his chest. A month ago she would have kicked his ass, but now being with him was the most right thing in the world. The only place she wanted to be. She thought about his last statement, and a few good things had come from everything Xander had done.
 
“Maybe you’re right.” She said into his neck.
 
“You’re not sure?” She could hear the amusement in his voice. 
 
She turned her hips and eased herself back into his lap. She combed a few of his dark curls with her fingers, trying her best to avoid staring at his lips. “You can’t be right all the time, Mr. Drake.”
 
“I must disagree with you, Miss Carlisle.” His arm around her waist tightened, drew her in.
 
“Don’t do something you may regret.” She traced her fingers along his jawline. 
 
“I have no regrets when it comes to you, Lysandra.” His hand slid up her thigh. 
 
Her stomach dropped at the warmth of his palm against her skin. She tried to repress a full body shiver and failed miserably. Lysandra pursed her lips. How had this devastatingly handsome man become the most important thing in her world?
 
Cupping his cheek, she pressed her lips to his. It was a slow drawn-out kiss. Neither wanting to rush, they luxuriated in each other’s presence. This time with nothing between then, no more lies, no more expectations, they could simply enjoy one another.
 
There was a knock on the door. Edward pulled away to see what it was.
 
“Hungry?” He green eyes bright.
 
Lysandra didn’t want to leave this moment. The warmth of this room. The nearness of Edward. She gave him one last kiss before reluctantly she slid from his lap. “Sure.” She picked up her drink and swallowed it down quickly. 
 
[Conversation over dinner where they determine that if Lysandra could do one thing, it would be to travel for fun.]
 
Edward engulfed her in a hug, shielding her from the breeze as they watched the waves in the moonlight. Lysandra leaned into him, soaking up all his heat. Craning her head back, she looked up at him. “So dinner, drinks, and deep conversation. Anything else we should be doing on this date?”
 
“There’s no bowling alley onboard, if that’s what you were hoping for.” He swayed with the rhythm of the ship. 
 
She went over all the things they had talked about over dinner about hobbies and interests. The wine and rocking of the ship made her feel like she was floating. She gasped with an idea. “Is there a hot tub onboard?”
 
Edward pursed his lips as his hands gripped her hips. “There is. Did you bring a bathing suit?”
 
Lysandra arched her eyebrows at him. “Are clothes vital to its function, Mr. Drake?”
 
“Not at all, Miss Carlisle.” He smiled and took her hand.

​Tozer was talking about the power of God to bring into existence whole worlds by speaking. I believe that I share in God's image by doing the same thing every time I write. I've always felt that the story worlds I write about were already in existence and I'm an explorer and chronicler of those realities.
 
Now that the paperbacks are available for all four books I can officially say that The DPA Declassified Files series is complete. The "final FINAL for reals this time" versions of them are out there in the world now, running free, with no more edits from me. There will not be any more novels.
 
Does that world and those characters continue on without me?
 
Absolutely.
 
The world of the Elbie and the DPA go on for two reasons. One, readers always come away from a novel/movie/comic with a unique experience that is completely their own. How the characters look and sound will vary from person to person. (Ergo each person's interpretation of the content now becomes a branch off the main timeline of the original, thus creating a multiverse within our own. But I digress.) Not only that, it is not unheard of for readers to imagine their own lives for the characters. Hence, fan fiction, a product of people not ready to leave that world.
 
Two, it's never over for a lot of writers. I will continue to write little side stories for these characters for probably the rest of my life. They’ll age with me. Even though there won’t be any more publicly available content, the lives of all my characters continue regardless of me recording their actions or not. Not to mention, if given the option, I think many writers would continue to tweak their work for infinity if it were possible.
 
If ever given the chance, I would love to see the DPA Declassified Files done as a TV/streaming series. I’ve had it in my head to do little short stories about different hosts and how they use/experience Elbie. There’s a lot to explore there and a series would give the material time to do that. But at this point, I’ve been in this world for over twelve years and I’m really ready to move on.
 
The ultimate compliment I could receive is to have someone create fanart or fan fiction based off of my writing. To inspire someone else to create something because of what I wrote – that would be pretty cool.
 
In the end, I can say I wrote four books and that is a satisfying statement. I would love for more people to meet my characters but even if they are only known by a few people beyond myself, they are still out there living their fictional lives without me. 

Here's a little teaser before the final book comes out. This scene happens two weeks after the events of Linchpin.

Hidden Hills, CA
Fifth date.
 
But who’s counting?
 
You are. Esben chided Edward.
 
Ignoring the voice inside his head, Edward sat on the bottom step of the staircase near the grand front door of his main residence, gripping his hands in anticipation. This was the first time Lysandra would be spending time with him, while other people were around. It felt like a new stage in their quickly developing relationship. He checked his watch, it was just after seven p.m. It had only been two minutes since Lysandra called him from the gate. He should have gone with the security guard to greet her.
 
He sprang from the step and dashed into the sitting room where a large mirror hung over the hearth. He raked his dark curls with his fingers and smoothed the wrinkles from his shirt.
 
Would you like a dose of serotonin? With a melatonin chaser? Esben offered.
 
“No. Thank you. I’m fine.” Edward said aloud, and went back to the front door. He paced back and forth in front of the entry table, flexing and unflexing his fingers.
 
In the past Edward would have taken Esben up on the offer. Esben wouldn’t even have to ask. After being separated from the Elbie in India, Edward realized he had grown dependent on his internal partner. It had been uncomfortable, even torturous being bombarded by every feeling that hit him and there had been a lot of them. Overwhelming. As a host for the last several years he needed to relearn how to control himself. When it came to Lysandra, he wanted to feel everything.
 
“What’s going down, boss?” Nolin shouted from the middle of the hallway. In his arms he hugged a ludicrously large bowl of popcorn. L’heilh leaned against his shoulder with two wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. The two of them waited for his answer with anticipation on their faces.
 
Edward waved them on. “Don’t wait for us.”
 
“Ya sure?” Nolin threw popcorn in his mouth and crunched loudly.
 
Edward rubbed the back of his neck. “Remember what I said, if we do join you?”
 
“We know sweetie,” L’heilh put her forearm to Nolin’s back. “No teasing.”
 
“Best behavior and all that.” Nolin assured.
 
Edward nodded. “Thank you.”
 
L’heilh pushed Nolin forward and they moved out of sight.
 
Edward continued his pacing. He pulled on the bottom of his linen shirt. He felt weird in casual clothes. He had gotten so used to presenting himself in a professional manner at all times, but Lysandra had asked for a low-key evening. She had sounded tired on the phone but insisted on still coming over anyway.
 
The familiar sound of tires crunching on the gravel driveway caught his ear. Edward cracked his knuckles and leaned against the edge of the entry table. Act casual, he chanted to himself. Esben chuckled.
 
A car engine cut off.
 
Last chance. Esben said, referring to the chemical boost.
 
Go away. Edward thought at the Elbie with some irritation. As previously decided, Esben would not nest in Edward’s head as he normally did. Instead he would circulate in his nervous system. Even though Esben would still know everything that was going on, it made Edward feel more like he was alone with Lysandra.
 
Car doors slammed.
 
Esben’s presence drained from his mind. His nerves began to tingle as Esben merged with his body's natural electrical flow. Maybe he should have taken the serotonin boost.
 
The front door opened. The security guard he had sent to the gate walked in and held the door open. Lysandra stepped in from the darkened porch. She had on black jeans and a fitted t-shirt in a deep burgundy color that clung to her body in all the right ways. Edward loved that color on her. Even dressed down, she looked amazing.
 
“Hey.” She glanced at him. Dropping her backpack on the floor, she leaned against the wall and started removing her combat boots.
 
“Anything else, Mr. Drake?” The security guard looked at Edward.
 
“That will be all. Thank you.” Edward stood straight and held his hands behind his back.
 
The guard left. Edward strolled up to Lysandra. “Miss Carlisle.” he bowed his head cordially at her. What he really wanted to do was sweep her into arms and kiss her.
 
Lysandra set her boots aside and stood. “Mr. Drake.” She smiled wearily and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest. “Thank you for the night in.”
 
“Of course.” Edward engulfed her in his arms and rested his chin on the top of her head, breathing deeply. “Rough day?”
 
She sighed heavily. The heat of her breath warmed his shirt. “Yes.” She lifted her head. “But it’s over now.” A genuine smile lit up her face. “So happy to see you.” She kissed him lightly on the lips.
 
Tingles moved down his spine and arms anytime she touched him. His world had utterly been turned upside down by this woman. “Pleasure’s all mine.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand and kissed her, letting his lips linger a little longer on hers. “Hungry?”
 
She blinked up at him. “Starving.”
 
“I’ll have the cook prepare–”
 
She grabbed his hand and started walking. “Not waiting around for that.”
 
She led him into the kitchen and went straight to the fridge. “What’s left over from dinner?” She threw open the fridge doors and started stacking storage containers on the counter.
 
After scraping together a plate, she sat on the marble counter, happily munching away on leftover salad and baked salmon that had been cooked early that evening. Edward had suggested moving to the dining room but she refused. So they stayed in the kitchen, only the light above the stove lit the cavernous room. Her eyes roved around the room as she ate. It was clear to him that she was comfortable in his house. It made his heart happy that she felt so free to be herself with him.
 
He brought a glass of wine over to her and leaned against the counter next to her, sipping from his own glass. “Nolin and L’heilh are watching a movie downstairs. We can join them if you’d like.”
 
He knew she wasn’t a movie person, nor was he, but it would be exactly the kind of relaxing activity she had requested.
 
She swallowed her last bite, set the plate aside, and took a huge gulp of wine. “Are they going to be all weird? About us?”
 
“Of course not. They’re adults.”
 
“L’heilh, yes. Nolin, I’m not so sure about.”
 
Edward chuckled. “He does like to point out the obvious sometimes but he will behave. I promise.”
 
“Can I punch him if he says anything?”
 
“I’m afraid you’ll have no choice.”
 
“Good.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him. The red wine was still fresh on her tongue. His head swirled as she wrapped her legs around him and deepened their kiss. His hands gripped her hips and pulled her closer.
 
After a few minutes she broke off the kiss and took another drink. She kept her gaze fixed on him as she finished off the glass.
 
“Missed you too.” Edward grinned.
 
They left the dishes in the sink. After refilling their glasses with wine, they headed downstairs.
 
The stairs creaked as they descended into the basement. The only light came from the movie screen. There were three rows of plush seating facing the wall sized image. Nolin and L’heilh sat in the row against the wall, the monster bowl of popcorn between them.
 
“Oi!” Nolin shouted as they hit the landing. “You came!” He threw his hands in the air.
 
The front row had a couch at the center with reclining chairs on each side. Edward let Lysandra sit first. Her eyes were drawn to the screen. “What are we watching?”
 
“Jason Bourne two.” Nolin threw popcorn in their general direction.
 
Edward settled in next to her.
 
“Who’s Jason Bourne?” Lysandra looked around and found some buttons.
 
“A super slick spy.”
 
“I thought his name was James Bond.” The foot rest extended out.
 
“This bloke’s American,” Nolin rained more popcorn down on them.
 
Lysandra shrugged. Brushing the popcorn off her and Edward, she snuggled up to him and relaxed into his arms. Their last few dates had been frenzied as they pretended to be interested in whatever event was happening, only to shed every scrap of clothing the second they were alone. A comfortable warmth pooled in his stomach as he recalled those moments. But this easy comfort, now fully clothed, was its own kind of wonderful.
 
With one arm around her and the other resting on the arm of the couch, Edward allowed himself to sink into the cushions and savor in this simple moment. All the success and achievements he had gained couldn’t compare to this. He would give it all up if it meant ending every day with her in his arms.
 
Despite the action on the screen and the surround sound system shaking their seats, Lysandra fell asleep. Edward let himself doze in and out of consciousness. He had waited all day to be with her. He hoped she felt the same.
 
At one point she turned in her sleep. Throwing one leg over his, stretched her arm across his stomach, and pulled herself half on top of him. A year ago he had not thought this moment was possible. She had declared her outright hate for him on a couple of occasions. She might have forgiven him in time, but if it had not been for Xander’s terrible intervention, Edward was sure this moment would not be happening so soon.
 
The movie ended. As the credits started to roll Nolin and L’heilh left the room, laughing at him for being trapped under a sleeping woman. Edward waved them off. Once the credits finished the projector shut itself off, leaving them in almost total darkness. While the couch could recline, it would not be a comfortable way to spend the night.
 
“Lysandra.” He whispered and shook her shoulder. She groaned but was nowhere near waking. He did his best to sit up. “Come on, sweetheart, movie’s over.” She stirred more this time and hugged herself to him in silent protest. He shifted again. “I’ll call a car to take you home.”
 
“Hmmm.” She finally moved. Only this time she pulled herself into his lap. Settling into him she nestled her head into the crook of his neck. “There.” She said sleepily.
 
“There what?” He asked, genuinely perplexed.
 
Lysandra lifted her hand and patted his chest. “Home.” She murmured.
 
He put his hand over hers and listened to her breathe. Edward wasn’t even sure she was awake. He couldn’t bear the thought of sending her away. Ever. Longing ached in his chest. Shifting his arms, he cradled her against him and managed to get off the couch. He carried her through the darkened house and up to his room. Resting her on the bed, he pulled the covers over her, and got ready for bed.
 
Afterward, he slipped under the covers next to Lysandra. Turned on his side, he watched her sleep still too awake to sleep himself. He reached out for her hand and held it. This is how every night should end.
 
Lysandra squeezed his fingers and scooted closer to him. Her hand wandered across his chest until it found his face. She pushed up on her elbow and brushed his lips with a light kiss. “Love you.” She rolled into his side and snuggled down. And then she had the audacity to be asleep instantly.
 
Edward was thunderstruck by the spontaneous declaration.
 
They had yet to speak openly about their relationship in any way. Not even to not label whatever it was they were. A couple? Partners? Frenemies? She did work for an organization that kept tabs on him after all.
 
She loved him.
 
She. Loved. Him.
 
If he knew one thing to be true on this whole planet it was that he loved her too.
Help please. Edward pleaded inwardly.
 
Esben bled back into his thoughts. Trouble sleeping?
 
Edward did not answer. Esben knew one hundred percent what had just happened and how he felt about it.
 
Sweet dreams.
 
 
 
In the morning, Edward got dressed. Lysandra had not even stirred as he went about the room preparing for the day. As he ate breakfast with Nolin and L’heilh in the dining room, he kept expecting Lysandra to stumble in but she never made an appearance. If there were two things on this whole planet, he knew to be true, the other was that Lysandra Carlisle was not a morning person.
 
He had held off the inevitable as long as possible but he had a full day ahead of him. Edward went up to his room one last time. Bending over her side of the bed, he planted his hands on either side of her, leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “Have a good day, Miss Carlisle.”
 
She propped up on her elbows and squinted at him with one eye. “What time is it?”
 
Edward sat on the edge of the bed. “Seven-thirty.”
 
She groaned and dropped back onto the pillow.
 
Edward laughed. “Breakfast and coffee are in the dining room for you.”
 
She stretched her arms over her head. “Mmm. Coffee.”
 
Pushing away the memory of her in that sexy red dress from the other night, Edward moved to get up.
 
She snagged the cuff of his suit. “Stay.”
 
Longing ached in his chest. It took all his restraint not to pull her into his arms. “I have to go to work. Security can call a car when you’re ready to leave.”
 
“What?” All sleepiness suddenly shed as she visibly tensed up. “I can’t stay here. By myself.”
 
“Why not?” She belonged here. He had felt that from the moment they met.
 
“It’s your house. Won’t that be weird?”
 
He reached out and caressed her cheek. “You said it yourself last night. This is your home.”
 
Lysandra sat up. “I would never say something that sappy.”
 
“You most certainly did, Miss Carlisle. Would you like to see the footage?” He held up his hand.
 
Lysandra scowled and pushed his hand away. “Are you making fun of me?”
 
Edward drew his shoulders back. “Never. But that is what you said.”
 
“All of my stuff is at the DPA.” A weak argument at best.
 
“Some of your stuff is here. In your room.” His eyes flicked to the shared wall between his room and hers. “Besides, I doubt ‘home’ has ever been a location to you.”
 
She’s embarrassed. Esben assessed. Given the color in her cheeks and her refusal to look at him, Esben’s evaluation was unnecessary.
 
“Lysandra, I want you to think of my house as your house. I’ll leave a key–”
 
“Stop.” She threw off the covers and got up. “You can drop me off on your way to the office.”
 
Edward followed her as she stomped out the door. He gave chase as she jogged down the sweeping staircase. Panic balled into a rock in the pit of his stomach. Her sudden turn felt like it had erased all the progress they made over the last couple of weeks. “Help me understand what just happened.” No response.
 
At the bottom she grabbed her boots and sat down on the steps to put them on. Edward waited in silence as she unlaced her boots enough to slip them on. The black laces whipped back and forth and she worked them.
 
He leaned forward and stilled her hand. “Talk to me, Lysandra.”
 
Lysandra froze. She didn’t pull away, but she wouldn’t look at him. “It’s fine. I’m just… not there yet.” She met his gaze.
 
That was huge for her. It always took her some time to process her feelings. Edward nodded, but he didn’t like being cut off from her emotionally, it was the worst form of punishment. Perhaps she couldn’t admit her feelings to herself, sleepy Lysandra was certainly less restrained. There was no way he was going to even mention the last thing she had said to him the night before.
 
He caressed her hand. “The invitation stands.”
 
“Okay.” She forced a smile. “Thank you.”
 
Coffee was put in a travel mug for her as they left for the day. Edward and Lysandra sat in the seat facing forward. Nolin and L’heilh sat across from them. Lysandra clung to her coffee with both hands, scrunched in on herself. She stared down at the floor nodding absently as Nolin chattered away about whatever passed through his head, unaware that his audience was focused on other things. L’heilh flipped the pages of a fashion magazine ignoring all of them.
 
Edward had his arm around her shoulders but the warmth he had felt from her the last couple of weeks had completely vanished. The sudden change in her demeanor had completely thrown him off. He tried not to take it personal, but it would cast a pall over the rest of his day.
 
The car pulled up a few blocks from the new DPA home office. Lysandra gathered all her stuff. “Have a great day, guys.” She kissed Edward on the cheek. “Call you later.”
 
“Have a good day, Miss Carlisle.” Edward called after her.
 
Lysandra stepped out on the sidewalk. The door slammed shut and the car pulled away. As the car passed her, he waited for her to look back or wave but she did neither. He would definitely be spending the rest of the day trying to pinpoint what he could have done differently and knew it was too late to change any of it.
 
Lysandra never called.

The final book in my series, Iteration, will be out in August. In the meantime, I have been revisiting book 2, Linchpin. This is a refresher of an old scene. I will post another story to bridge the two books before the release of Iteration so keep an eye out for that.
 
Every time I read my own writing, even the published stuff, I find things I want to tweak or improve. I think most writers experience this. During the writing process, as you think through different scenes, you have to decide whose point of view to use. As a result, I sometimes end up with many versions of the same moment as I figure out who is the best person for the reader to see it through. In this case, I wanted to do a little bit of a re-write and while I was at it, also give a new POV. So this scene from Iteration is a little different than what is in the book. In the book it’s from Lysandra’s head, this is from Edward’s.
 
This scene is after Esben and Lysandra have been kidnapped and Lysandra wakes up in a hotel room with him. She is not happy about this but there is not much she can do about it. They start talking about ways to get out of the situation and Esben mentions that time when she and Brendan were trying to hone her telekinetics to pull Elbie out of people.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Excuse me.” Lysandra rushed to the bathroom.
 
Edward leaned back against the stone railing. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She was still angry with him about her brother and he had to go and mention it. The guilt over Brendan's death had hung on him for months. She had every right to be angry with him. Didn't change the fact that she was all he thought about.
 
He heard the bathroom door open. Lysandra emerged, her cheeks pink from washing. She moved across the room with purpose, heading directly for him. Edward gripped the railing, bracing for another punch. As she came out into the sun, her gaze locked on to him. Without a word she threw her arms around his neck, her cheek against his. Edward froze, stunned and confused about this sudden change. Every thought in his head scrambled as she leaned into him. His heartbeat pounded in his jaw where she had hit him. Suddenly he was hot, very hot and it had nothing to do with the desert at his back.
 
“Put your arms around me.” She whispered.
 
Edward complied, circling her waist, lightly resting his arms on her hips, still trying to wrap his head around this moment. All too aware of the skin to skin contact of his forearms against her exposed midriff.
 
“Let’s get the bastard.” Her voice sent shivers down his spine. “The sooner we strike the better.”
 
Edward took a shaky breath. Now it made sense. This was a ploy to disguise their talk from any recording devices Xander may have around them. Disappointed, he nodded. “Do you really think you can do it?”
 
“I'm not sure.” She shifted against him. “That's where I need you.”
 
“Me?” He swallowed, his mouth was dry. The weight of her body against his, even as a ruse, brought every nerve in his body to full tingle mode. It took every ounce of willpower not to pull her closer, or let his hands wander to other places.
 
“I need to practice. You're the only one here with an Elbie.”
 
“I. Can't.”
 
Her body went rigid. “It was your big idea.” She whispered curtly. Her arms slid from his neck and down his arms as she leaned back from him. Anger burned in her eyes, waiting for an explanation.
 
“Esben’s gone. I had to surrender him shortly after we got here.” There was no other way to put it. What Xander wanted with Esben, he had no idea.
 
Anger melted into shock, maybe even confusion. “Surrender? Why?”
 
Edward shook his head. Because Xander threatened to hurt you, if I didn't. If he told her that giving up Esben had been an easy choice given the alternative, would she believe him? “I’m just Edward right now.”
 
Her eyes searched his and then went to the bruise still pulsing along his jaw. Seeing that he was not healing, her body relaxed ever so slightly into him, as she accepted the truth of his statement. “Esb– Edward, why didn't you say so before?”
 
The gentleness in her voice made him want to bury his face in her neck and just breathe. Forcing illicit thoughts from his mind he tried to put on a business posture. “It wasn't pertinent information until now.”
 
She looked away, her gaze distant with thought. “You're Elbie-free right now?”
 
“I am.” For the life of him, he could not read her, but he would keep his hands firmly on her hips for as long as she would let him.
 
“Are you sure?” A shrewd gleam came into her eyes as she looked up at him.
 
Edward laughed. “I’ve been a host for several years. I know the difference.” To date, this was the longest he and Esben had been separated since meeting.
 
“That’s why you're acting so weird.” She smirked.
 
“I’m behaving as I normally do.” His voice lacked conviction, even to himself. It had only been a couple of hours and he did feel weird. And overwhelmed. He wasn’t afraid for himself, but Xander had already threatened Lysandra once. The cycle of emotions he had been through in the last few hours was having a toll on him.
 
She continued to examine his face. Her scrutiny made him nervous. “What?” He asked.
 
With one hand splayed on his chest, she cupped his cheek with the other. Before he could register what was happening her lips were on his. Her tongue slid against his as her body pressed him against the railing. Not needing any explanation, he met her enthusiasm with his own. He balled the fabric of her sari in his hands to keep his hands in place. His whole body buzzed with adrenaline.
 
As suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Lysandra broke contact, her breath hitched, her cheeks burned a deeper shade of pink.
 
Edward could barely think. “What was that for?” His head spun.
 
“A test.” She said flatly, leaning back from him.
 
Attempting to keep her as close as possible, he asked. “Did I pass?”
 
“It wasn't for you.” Her tone was still flat, but he could swear a smile tugged at the corner of her flushed lips.
 
Even in this disheveled state, she was ravishing. He leaned in for another kiss. He had to feel those lips again.
 
A loud knock from inside the room made them both freeze. The doors to the suite opened, and two of Xander’s men came in. Edward let her go and they stood side by side as the two guards stared at them. “Miss Carlisle. Please come with us.”
 
Lysandra looked over at him. Edward shook his head slightly. Nothing good could come from talking with Xander. And there was no way he was going to let her be alone with him.
 
Lysandra crossed her arms. “Do I have a choice?”
 
“No.”
 
“Love to.” She pulled away from Edward. He fell in step beside her.
 
One guard put his hand out and used his body to block Edward from Lysandra. “Mr. Hansen wants to see her alone.” The guard grimmly informed.
 
Edward drew himself up. “Absolutely not.”
 
“Your turn will come, Mr. Drake.” The other guard took Lysandra by the arm and pushed her toward the door.
 
A jolt of hot anger sliced through Edward as the man gripped Lysandra's arm and dragged her into the hallway. Edward moved to intervene. The guard next to him pulled back his jacket to reveal the gun beneath. Only a few hours ago such threats would have meant nothing to Edward, but without Esben to heal him, endangering himself would not help him or Lysandra. Clenching his fists, he took a step back.
 
Edward caught a glimpse of her face as the man closed the door between them. He needed to figure out what Lysandra was to Xander before he could come up with any solutions.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From there, Lysandra goes to meet Xander and he lets her know what he wants. Anywho, I hope this has added a new layer of understanding. Thank you for reading!

I am in the midst of editing book 3 - Iteration. A lot of shuffling around of things has occurred. A whole lot of deleting and a whole lot of rewriting. Which is great. But it does mean sometimes you have to let that really cool moment go. Below is a such a moment between Lysandra and a kid. I really liked it and I wanted to preserve it in some way. So here is it for you.

NOTE: This is raw and unedited. Even my writing coach's comment was, "massive revision needed." Also, it is very much in the middle of the story and so it may be too confusing to even follow. It could potentially be spoilery, but again, since you have no context I'm not sure it does spoil anything. 

Happy reading!

New York City, 1200 hours
Lysandra had been to New York on several occasions so she knew the city pretty well. With a cup of coffee in hand she took out a burner phone she had purchased at the mall and put the battery in it. She did not turn it on. The coffee did not do a thing to clear the fog in her head from the drug that still lingered in her bloodstream.

She had to hand it to Nolin and Edward. They knew having enough people to confront would not do the trick. Drugging her had been a move neither she nor Esben had not expected. With the help of two Elbie it only set them back a few hours but it had been enough. As she sat on the bench, sipping her coffee, Qur’ag still had to work at keeping her adrenaline at a high level to counteract the drug.

Esben left her at the church to rest while he used the ACS guard to mail her watch to their final destination. This time she had no memories of what happened since she was not actually being active in what was happening to her. But they both knew what had to be done and so he left Qur’ag to complete the needed task. What she was about to do was also needed to ensure their activities stayed off the grid as long as possible.

She sat on a bench inside a fenced basketball court watching kids play basketball. Why these kids were not in school she did not know. Qur’ag protested leaving the church. He thought it best to stay put. That moving about would risk them being seen and worse, getting captured. With a staunch mental shut up at the morose Elbie she left the solemn quite of the sanctuary and went outside anyways.

Patience was a virtue when it came to crime. Crime tended to be a matter of opportunity. Knowing when and where to strike were an art form. It had been some time since she had participated in such activities. But old habits die hard. Fear and survival have a way of hardwiring themselves into all your actions even when you don’t want them to.

“Hey kid.” Lysandra called to a tween age boy with dark mussed hear and dirt smudges on his cheeks. “You got a phone?”

The boy was skeptical. Looked her over with a wary eye. “’Course I got a phone.”

“Let me see it.”

The kid squinted at her. “Why?” He inched closer anyways.

“Here,” Lysandra reached into her pocket and took out her phone and held it out to him. “I would love to trade you. What do you say?”

The kid hesitated, but slowly reached for it.

“Brand new. Only been used once.”

The kid turned it over. It was nicer than his phone.

He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at her. “Why you want mine?”

“When I was your age, I had one just like it. Call it nostalgia.” When she was his age, only rich people had cell phones.

“Nostalgia?” He wrinkled his nose. “What’s that?”

Lysandra blinked, she hadn’t stumped someone before with her vocabulary. “It means a fond memory. Think of your favorite thing.”

“Okay.”

“Then you lost it.”

“Uh- huh.”

“Then, several years later you found it again and it makes you feel happy.”

“Okay.”

“That feeling is nostalgia.”

The boy turned the phone on and went through some of the menus. He held up against the phone he brought with him. “What if someone calls for you?”

“They won’t.”

The kid dug his toe into the ground, openly examining her. Lysandra leaned on her elbows and smiled at him.

“What if someone calls for me?”

“I’ll give them your new number.”

“Well....” he drew out the vowel. “I guess so.”

“Sweet.” Lysandra held her hand for his phone.

He cocked his head to one side as he looked at it one last time and finally handed it to her. Even as they held their new phones he kept looking at the one her hand.

“Come on, Matt!” One of the other kids called from the across the basketball court.

Lysandra sat up.

“Thanks, lady!” The kid put the phone his pocket and bounced off towards his friends.

Matt.

The name rang in her ears. Would Matt approve of her actions? Even as she formed the question another thought berated her for even caring what others thought. But this was Matt. She had never cared about the approval of the crowd, just a select few. And when she was too busy learning protocol or radio code Matt had become one of those few.

Another voice chided her for such sniveling sentimentality. Esben’s reason for leaving Qur’ag with her made sense, the Elbie could be her back up in the same way they had been at the Seattle office. It was unfortunate that it had to be the worst of them all. This arrangement would not work for much longer.

Since the human was the one who had spent time in New York City, she was the one in control for now. Lysandra headed back to the church making several switchbacks and staying under the cover of eaves whenever possible.

Inside the cavernous interior of the sanctuary it was easy to spot Esben’s current host. Mimicking some of the other visitors in the church, she dipped her fingers in the water basin, crossed herself, and made a half bow before heading down the aisle. It was between services at the moment so the few worshippers there were scattered at great intervals throughout the pews.

She slid across the wood seat next to him. Esben had his head craned up, his eyes roving along the curved arches. She waited for him to speak, his eyes continued to examine the structure around them.

She cleared her throat. “All done?”

He reached into his jacket and handed her a receipt. It had the tracking number on it. “It will get there by 10 am, no signature needed.”

Lysandra crammed the paper into her pocket. “Are you sure we can leave your host behind?” His eyes searched the stained-glass stories. “Hey, is everything okay?” She put her hand on his forearm. He jumped at her touch.

“I’m fine.” He finally looked at her. “Each mind is so similar and yet totally different.”

Lysandra took her hand back. For a moment she saw Edward. Maybe it was the effect of his voice inflection. No matter what host Esben inhabited, the way the person spoke came out sounding like Edward. She shook herself. “Okay. Well, we need to get going then.” She put her hand on his neck and waited for Esben to transfer into her. Esben would take over immediately. Not something she really liked but for now it would have to do.

The man’s whole body relaxed. She folded his hands peacefully folded in his lap where he sat like he was praying.

The process is different for everyone. There is no wrong (or right) way to write. Each person has to figuret out for themselves what works and what doesn’t.
 
The Approach
For me the act of writing is a discovery process. Auguste Rodin said, “I invent nothing, I rediscover.” I am a big proponent of the Multiverse Theory and it’s infinite possibilities. As far as I am concerned each story world is it’s own reality. I’m a visitor looking around and taking notes. My characters are largely independent of me. They have the ability to surprise and infuriate me, just like all the people in my life. When I am not thinking/writing about them, they go on with their lives regardless of my attention. Even in world building mode when I am trying to construct systems of government and politico dynamics, et al, I still have this sense that, like Michaelangelo, the shape of the thing I’m trying to create is already present in the mass/mess, but I have to put in the work to reveal what has been there all along.
 
 
The Method
Generally speaking when I start a story I have two things to work with. A character and the ending. I usually know how a story will end but I have absolutely no idea how I will get there. I am a panster by nature. Whether or not you choose to outline, here’s the thing, a lot can happen between bullet points. You may have a list of well thought out plot points but how you move characters from one plot point to the next is still a crap shoot. There are a lot of choices to make for every scene and how you transition from one scene to next. Anyone of those choices can render the rest of your plot points totally moot and you have to rethink what happens next. Again, this is my writing style. Some authors wield an iron fist over their creations and have absolute control at all times, if that is you, must be nice.
 
The other element I have to work with is a person. Characters are the most important part of a story to me. Clever ideas are good but very few people will stick with you solely because of a cool premise. When I start there I usually have an image in my head and there is at least one person at the center. I have no idea who they are or what they want, but they’re there waiting for me to find out. I used to just start writing, using that one image in my head as the starting point for my exploration. Lately I’ve been intentional about figuring out who the character is first. The internet is full of tools for character building. The one that has really helped me story wise is K.M. Weiland’s book, “Creating Character Arcs.” The time I put into going through her questions and developing my main cast before I start writing has really helped me to understand who these people are. As a bonus I get all kinds of awesome plot ideas. Because the plot is largely determined by the characters, if I have no idea who they are or what they want then I have no story.
 
 
The Hard Part
Writing. Panster or plotter it makes no difference, writers write. Full stop. The internet is rife with memes about procrastinating writers because it is true. Why do so many of us avoid that which we long to do? Ask ten writers and you’ll get ten answers. Whatever the reasons, you will have to wrestle yourself into submission on that one. But there will come a time when there is nothing left to do but put words to a page.
 
Soapbox Tangent
It has always annoyed the crap out of me when people casually declare they will write a book someday. I think because they are literate and know how to construct a sentence they assume a book should be any easy thing to do. Well, it’s not. If it was easy there would not be thousands of how-to books on the subject.
 
Okay, now that I have that off my chest…. Whatever you have to do to get those words down, do it. Habit is your friend. Our brains love routine and patterns so if you can write at the same time everyday (week/month/year) it will help creativity to flow a lot better. I trick myself by saying I only have to write 500 words. That’s it. As an example, the first two sections of this entry are about that. BUT, once I get rolling, I don’t usually want to stop. It’s the getting started part I find hard.
 
I have to schedule my time. I make appointments with myself and do not change them for anyone. There will be a million opportunities to interrupt you so schedule time when you can be the least demanded upon. If you are so popular/busy that this is impossible then you are going to have to choose writing time over social time. If you are serious about writing you will find a way. One of my writing partners is a mother of two little kids. She writes when they nap. Sometimes she can’t because of other things she has to do, but when she can write, she does. Progress is still progress no matter how slow.
 
 
In Conclusion
This is my method. You need to find your own path but it’s always nice to know how other people go about it. Other strong suggestions are: read (fiction and nonfiction, in all sorts of genres,) talk to other writers, and find other writing to workshop your work. It’s scary letting other people see your work in a raw state but you will learn a lot and improve by leaps and bounds if you can take to heart their suggestions.

One of the best parts about being a fiction writer is all the lying. You can make up anything you want BUT it still has to be believable. Meaning, the world of your story has to have an internal logic that works within itself. 

No matter what you end up writing, chances are you will need to do research of some kind. Maybe it's just fighting styles or how far away point A is from point B. I have had to do research for each book that is all very different from book to book. I love to learn so this is always a fun part for me. 

TRESPASSING

I started with investigating the basics of neuroscience to see how the brain works and also particle physics because I wanted to base the Elbie on something. I love the sciences in general so this was a easy ask (of myself) and I still read neuroscience books when I find them because the human mind is a weird and wacky place.

 LINCHPIN

The big difference here was I was dealing with a people group from another culture so I wanted to make sure I represented the people correctly. I had found a bunch of videos on YouTube that were filmed in India with the desert tribes. I noticed they were posted all by the same person. So I contacted him, Rolf Lunheim, and asked him where I could find more information and he told me where to buy his book. He is an anthroplogist and studded the people group in my book.

I read Samit Basu's scifi books to get a feel for how someone from that culture writes about their own culture in the scifi genre. Here is the thing I discovered. No matter what background your characters come from we all experience love, pain, betrayal, friendship, disappoint, et al in similar ways. 

​For extra measure I asked a few Indian friends to read the book to make sure I didn't have any blind spots.

ITERATION

This book went in a direction I could not predict when I started this series. It also went into a realm that have very little knowledge of. I won't say much more but hopefully this example of my reading will get you excited for where this series is going. 

I was scanning through the site and saw this:

https://www.elbiefree.com/rants-n-raves/state-of-the-trilogy

And realized WOW, i did not make my goal. In the above mentioned blog I said book 3 would be done by 2018 come hell or high water. Well, it's not done and here's what I have to say about that. I did finish complete the 1st draft that November and at over 120k words.

Then it was submitted to my critique group. We have a 5k word maximum for each submission so getting the whole thing by them took most of a year. I also had my writing mentor read it. After it was all said and done I have over 600 comments to address and who knows how much rewriting and restructuring. Not to mention I am still reading several books to make sure I have correct ideas. 

So all that to say. It's really, really, happening. 70 chapters. New characters and old. And completed character  arcs to boot. It's gonna be good y'all. I can't wait for you to read it. I will be asking for beta readers. If you are interested please hit me up on Twitter or Facebook.

​Here is what editing a novel can look like.

If you're a writer type, it's possible that you have heard about this little thing called National Novel Writing Month. I did NaNoWriMo for the first time in 2009. It was spontaneous choice I made on October 31st. As suggested by the NaNo handbook, I acrually started with "Once upon a time." I had no idea what my story was going to be about at all. And yet... something happened. 

Here's the thing you need to know about my writing process. I spend years mulling over my stories. Characters live in my head for years. Years. Lysandra first came into my brain in 1988. My next story world I am working has been in my head for 20 years. To start a story with absolutely no ideas of any kind was terrifyig. 

And yet.

Day after day as I pushed myself to get those 1667 words down and somehow people sprang from the page along with locations and situations just appearing from the depths of my being. It was hard and exhilerating. Some days I was was just exhausted and other days I was sentence dynamo.

I've won NaNo three times. And I can say that once you hit 30k, you feel invincible. After that, another 20k feels like a breeze. I like partcipating in NaNo every year to help push myself to get a lot done. It helps to get my writing habit back on track. And it is fun meeting with other writers. I never regret talking to other writers.

My favorite part about NaNo is that even if you don't "win", you still do. You may not reach 50k words but you will have a whole lot of new material and that is the most important part. You have something on the page if you are ever going to be a writer. 
​
If you are trying to decide if you should do it or not, I say go for it! NaNo is not for everyone, but I think everyone can benefit from pushing themselves to the brink like that, at least once. You will be surprised at what comes out of you.